


Mornings

by FunnyLittleCreature



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: F/M, My First Fanfic, POV First Person, lil bit of hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2017-11-18
Packaged: 2019-02-03 21:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12756762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FunnyLittleCreature/pseuds/FunnyLittleCreature
Summary: Mornings have always been tough for you. Things have changed for the better.>Inspired by "Hearing" by Sleeping At Last





	Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic! Here goes nothing! Hope you guys enjoy.  
> P.S. This used to be on my tumblr but due to personal problems, it (along with my blog) had to be deleted.

Mornings had always been a difficult thing for me. They were cold, empty and foreboding. Most days I had a hard time convincing myself to get out of bed. And it wasn’t about a shitty job or going to school or whatever else is supposed to make mornings bad. It was…myself.

To get out of bed means to expose myself to people, people who either don’t like me, or people I fear will realize my worthlessness and leave me. Every second they spend with me is another opportunity for it all to go to shit. Another opportunity for me to lose what little I have left to keep me going.

Or so it used to be. Things have gotten a lot better since I got my dream job at Achievement Hunter. And it has less to do with getting the job and more to do with the friends I made after joining. Though, at first, it was scarier - there was a lot more at stake, there were more people to disappoint, more mistakes to make, and more time available to fuck things up – it got better as the friendships started getting stronger.

The guys are assholes. And they know it. But they are also the nicest assholes I’ve ever met. They’re respectful when I need it and, despite the constant roastings that are a staple at the office, they also care about each other. We talk shit every day, about each other, and about ourselves. But there’s also the moments of appreciation, of love and caring, of genuine adoration; Michael’s humming laughter at shitty attempts at fucking each other over, Gavin’s smile when I agree with his horribly explained ideas, Geoff being an asshole ninety-eight percent of the time except those few times he’s genuinely nice, Jack just being a caring person in general, Ryan saying to me, “You good?” before the start of every recording, Jeremy inviting me out or to his home during group hangouts, Matt’s grin every time I give him something sweet to eat, and just a shit ton of other moments that I keep stored in my head to reflect on during the times my emotions decide to fuck with me. In short, I love my friends.

And then there’s Trevor.

From the day I met him, I’d admired him. He was soft, and sweet, and so god damn nice. And after about two months of knowing him, I’d come to the very real realization that I was crushing on him.

Hard.

And the longer I knew him, the more my feelings grew. Until one day, I realized…that I was in love with him. His light laugh, his bright smile, his warm eyes, his soft voice, his poofy hair, his long legs, his brilliant mind, his amazing heart. All of it. Every single aspect, every beautiful bit. And though I was sure my feelings would not be reciprocated - years of believing yourself to be worthless kinda instills that in you – I still spent every moment I could with him.

I’ve always been a pretty good actor, thankfully, so I’d managed to keep my feelings under wraps for a whole year before finally spilling my feelings to someone. Ryan had been a very good friend of mine since the day I was hired. Observant guy that he is, he’d figured out my…issues rather quickly. Since then, he’d looked out for me, checked on my emotional state on bad days and just been an amazing friend overall. So I told him the truth. He’d replied with an unsurprised, “I’d thought as much,” and then a careful, “Are you going to tell him?”

I’d given him a look. He’d sighed, already expecting it. “He likes you back,” he’d pleaded.

“No, he doesn’t,” I’d replied confidently, hurt that he’d lie to me.

“I’m not lying but I know you won’t believe me,” he’d said, defeated.

I hadn’t replied. He’d sighed once more. And that was that.

Except, maybe it wasn’t. Because two weeks later, Trevor had marched up to me, nervous but determined, and asked to talk to me for a second. We’d gone to an unoccupied room where he’d proceeded to sit me down and confess to me. I’d been shocked. And confused. And in denial. I was sure it was a joke, a prank, a misunderstanding, pity, anything. Literally anything because him loving me was impossible. When he refused to budge, stating repeatedly, “I do really love you and I’ll say that ‘til you believe me.” I’d told him that he was confused, that if he got to know the real me, he wouldn’t be saying this. He’d looked at me, pain in his eyes, “I love you. And it’s because I know you that I knew you wouldn’t believe me. But I’m not confused or lying or whatever the fuck else. So please, please, believe me now.”

The rest of the conversation had been long and emotional and heart-wrenching. But necessary. And when we’d finally kissed, me afraid, him excited, I swear my heart leapt with joy while my entire being settled into an unbelievable calmness.

The next four months have been a whirlwind of disbelief, doubt, love and happiness. Life is good.

Which brings us back to now.

It’s morning. The sunlight filters through the shades softly, brightening the wall in front of me. The blanket’s gone, having been kicked off sometime during the night. Instead a warm body presses softly against my back, an arm around my waist, legs intertwined with mine, and soft breath fanning across the side of my neck. Trevor.

We’ve been spending the night at each other’s houses for the last week and, last night, we had finally found our rhythm. We’d stopped being afraid and instead just fallen into it together. And now, the only emotion I can feel is happiness. It’s the happiest and most comfortable I’ve felt in a long time. I almost don’t want to move. Almost.

I gently shuffle until I’m facing him, his face only a few inches away, his soft exhales drifting against my lips. The room is just bright enough for him to be visible and the sight that greets me leaves me breathless. He looks beautiful.

I take a moment to take it in, heart swelling with a billion different emotions until it finally settles on one: love.

I reach over to the bedside table and blindly grab for my phone. Checking the time, I turn off the alarm. It would’ve gone off in two minutes anyway. I do the same to Trevor’s phone and settle back in my spot, deciding to wake him in a bit.

As I run my gaze along his lips and down his jaw, he shuffles a bit and speaks with his eyes still closed. “A little early, don’t you think?” His voice is sleep addled and husky and makes my heart skip beat.

“Nope. It’s almost time to wake up actually,” I inform him.

He opens his eyes a little and shuts them immediately, groaning. “Nooooo.”

“Yeeeessss,” I reply with a chuckle.

“No,” he replies, barely moving his mouth.

“We’ll be late to work,” I remind him, “Again.”

He peeks at me with one eye and gives a reluctant smile. “I hate you,” he says, his voice soft and fond.

“Really, now,” I say, amused.

He groans before wrapping his arms around me and pulling me tightly to his chest. “Alright, fine. I love you.”

“I’m not sure I believe you anymore, Mr. Collins,” I mutter against his neck, playfully.

His voice is soft as he says, “But I do, I really do.” He pulls away to meet my eyes.

He looks gorgeous, hair flopping over his forehead and sunlight shining on his face, enhancing his eye lashes. I can barely speak. “You’re beautiful,” I finally say breathlessly.

He flushes red, pulling me close and hiding his face in my hair. “You can’t just say stuff like that!” He exclaims, embarrassed. I chuckle. “I’m only being honest, Trev.”

He flushes even more before pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. We stay like that in comfortable silence. I contemplate the coming day and, to my surprise, don’t feel any of the familiar fear or dread. No, the only feeling that rises is contentment.

“I love you, Trevor,” I whisper against his collarbone.

“I love you, too,” he whispers back.

Yeah, life is good.


End file.
